


let the cards fall where they may

by humorless_hexagon



Category: Falsettos - Lapine/Finn
Genre: Canon Compliant, Drinking, Kinda, Light Angst, M/M, Unhealthy Relationships, whizzer and trina have a "heart to heart"
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-01
Updated: 2017-08-01
Packaged: 2018-12-09 14:16:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11670738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/humorless_hexagon/pseuds/humorless_hexagon
Summary: “Whizzer,” Trina says, expressionless. She doesn’t even seem surprised.“Trina,” Whizzer responds with trepidation. His belt is still unbuckled around his waist.





	let the cards fall where they may

**Author's Note:**

> Title of this is a lyric from Been a Helluva Day (Reprise) from In Trousers.

Whizzer wakes up feeling comfortably warm.

 

He didn’t mean to fall asleep, but Marvin is a goddamn  _ cuddler _ and doesn’t know the meaning of the word no. Whizzer usually doesn’t stay with any of his partners after sex. It takes the whole thing too far, and the last thing he wants are for  _ feelings _ to get in the way of a good fuck.

 

But something about Marvin’s strong arms wrapped around his waist and the tickle of Marvin’s breath on his neck and the smell of Marvin’s shampoo on the pillow makes Whizzer lean into Marvin’s touch and relax.

 

A few more minutes wouldn’t hurt anyone...

 

The telltale sound of a garage door opening causes Whizzer’s eyes to shoot open.

 

“Shit. Shit,” Whizzer curses as he shimmies out of Marvin’s grasp. Marvin groans in complaint, but is pretty sound asleep. Heels faintly click against tile out in the other room.

 

Whizzer grabs clothes that he’s pretty sure are his from the floor. His heart throbs against his chest as he buttons up his shirt and jams his legs into his underwear. He waddles out of the room as he gets his pants back on. They may make his ass look great but they were hell to quickly change into. 

 

The finicky zipper finally slides up as Whizzer slinks into the dark kitchen. He breathes a sigh of relief, but with a click the room becomes blindingly bright.

 

Standing in front of him is Marvin’s wife, clutching a six-pack of beer in the hand that isn’t on the light-switch.

 

“Whizzer,” Trina says, expressionless. She doesn’t even seem surprised.

 

“Trina,” Whizzer responds with trepidation. His belt is still unbuckled around his waist.

 

The two of them had only been alone together once, and it was the most uncomfortable ten minutes of Whizzer’s life. It’s not that he dislikes Trina- she was surprisingly okay. It’s the whole idea of acknowledging that sleeping with Marvin has consequences that Whizzer has trouble dealing with.

 

When this had happened previously, Trina was confused. Whizzer remembers that she cried a lot. That was almost three months ago.

 

“How are you?” Trina asks mechanically. She doesn’t move.

 

“Fine.” Whizzer bites his lip.

Trina takes a shaky breath and pushes past him to put the beer in the fridge. She closes the door a little too forcefully and faces Whizzer with a nervous expression. It’s almost like she’s a startled animal. She pauses a beat, just staring at Whizzer, before opening the fridge again and pulling out two beers.

 

Trina hands a bottle to Whizzer, who awkwardly accepts.

 

He wants to leave, so he does. Whizzer sloppily puts on his shoes at the door and walks outside.  The cold, crisp air that greets him is so much more welcoming than the stifling atmosphere of the kitchen

 

“Sit with me for a minute,” Trina’s meek voice calls from behind him, causing him to jump. She sits down on the porch step, raising a bottle-opener up to Whizzer. He reluctantly joins her on the ground, privately agonizing over what the grime on the porch will do to his pants. They sit in what Whizzer finds to be an uncomfortable silence for an agonizing minute before Trina says something.

 

“How’s Marvin?”

 

She sounds disinterested, like she genuinely couldn’t care.

 

“He’s alright.”

 

Whizzer always admired Trina’s tenacity. From what he could deduce from Marvin’s ranting, the woman never quit at anything she did- especially in fixing their failing marriage. When Whizzer talked to her before, she was full of naive hope and determination. Now, she is tired and unimpressed.

 

Whizzer almost wishes he was talking to the other Trina.

 

She gets a large mouthful of her beer before confessing: "Marvin worships the ground you walk on." Trina shakes her head. She's given up. "I don't even care anymore. Isn't that fucked up? I don't care if my husband is sleeping with someone else. I just..."

 

Whizzer doesn't know why he does it, but he takes one of Trina's hands in his. From the shakiness of her voice, he assumed she was crying, but her face is dry.

 

"I love Marvin, I really do." Trina pulls her hand away. "We just aren't meant for each other."

 

"Thanks for being so underst-"

 

"Don't think you have my blessing," Trina snaps. Whizzer has never seen her so volatile. She's always been the submissive wife, so Whizzer finds himself feeling a weird mixture of threatened and impressed. "Marvin and I might not be a good match, but you and him are an awful one."

 

This is a fight he knows not to pick. Whizzer is not dumb, he understands that Trina is hurting. People tend to be cruel when they hurt, especially when they've been hurting for a long time. 

 

"Time will tell," is Whizzer's noncommittal response.

 

Trina's thin lips stretch into a discontented frown. She seems to have expected Whizzer to take the bait.They sit in silence for a claustrophobic moment, both taking long sips of their drinks. 

 

"Do you love Marvin?" Trina asks softly, not making eye contact. Her leg bounces erratically on the pavement.

 

Whizzer has two choices.

 

He can lie and say he's madly in love with this woman's husband- that Marvin occupies his thoughts every waking moment. Pretend that, without Marvin, Whizzer is nothing but a shell that longs for his affections and needs for his company.

 

But it's not like that. Whizzer still sleeps with other guys and sometimes goes days without thinking about Marvin. Whizzer is just tipsy enough and just exposed enough to go with option two. He tells the truth:

 

"I don't think so, no."

 

Trina's sudden laugh is loud enough to scare a nearby squirrel. "He's gonna get a kick out of that."

 

"Marvin doesn't love me," Whizzer clarifies. Trina gives raises a distrustful eyebrow. "He wants me to need him. I'm just an object."

 

"An object who he is going to divorce his wife of almost 10 years for."

 

The sharp sting of alcohol catches in Whizzer's throat, causing him to cough. "Divorce?" His voice is weak and high pitched from the near spit-take.

 

"Did Marvin not tell you? We've only just started talking about it. I thought there might be something we could do to keep our family together, but it's pointless."

 

"He's enamored with the idea of monogamy." Whizzer says, more to himself than to Trina, who has a bittersweet smile.

 

"Pretty ironic considering he's been cheating on me these last few months."

 

They both laugh, but there's no humor to it. Whizzer goes to take another swig from his beer, only to find that it's empty. With a sigh, he gets up from the porch step and shakes the life back into his legs.

 

"I better go."

 

Trina nods curtly. Her knee is still restlessly bouncing up and down.

 

Something in Whizzer’s stomach twists when he turns around. Trina’s eyes are wide and glazed over; the dark circles around them make her look older than she is. Her knuckles are white where they choke the neck of her beer bottle.

 

If Whizzer was a better person, he would take her back inside and get her a glass of water. But Whizzer knows himself: he doesn’t leave big tips and sleeps with married men and would never tell anyone about the conversation he was having.

 

"Have a nice night, Trina. Sleep well."

 

So he turns back to the street and walks to the subway station, cold and alone.

 

Trina’s choking exhaustion haunts him all the way home.

**Author's Note:**

> comments and kudos are always appreciated! If you want to talk to me about falsettos or musicals in general, I'm on tumblr: https://livendiefortissimo.tumblr.com/


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